Interesting times.  When you put yourself out there, people feel free to tell you what they think.  This is not always very comfy, because often they differ.  Often they agree though and I just had a very comfy (Liberals!  Fuck yeah!) conversation with Gersh, who found me on Facebook after 15 years of living in the same city, knowing the same people and never seeing each.other.  (Ah, Los Angeles.  You know that person you run into once a month?  You might not see him again for 15 years. ) Gersh explained the whole bail-out thing to me from the guy-who-always-was-thinking-about-$-when-the-rest-of-us-were-failing-forward perspective and I kind of get it, but I have many suspicions.  Sis Nanc sent me a forward (one of the rare ones that she and I agree on) that said giving every American a million bucks would be cheaper than this bail-out.  I think that would be much more fun.

So Rebecca sends out an e-mail to her peeps promoting Joe’s Garage (see it) and Eenie Meanie (love her) and at the bottom of her e-mail, she adds this commentary, which is so nail on the fucking head, I’m just walking away.

That’s Becca in the middle. Flanked L to R by Donna, Stephanie Terronez, (Becca) Amanda Weier & Michele Lema.   We theatre folk sure do like to dress up and take pictures of ourselves.  Anyway, her e-mail begins below.

AND ON THAT NOTE:  I realize I’m preaching to the choir with, well,
all of you, but if you are registered to vote in California, please
remember to vote down the hatemongers’ Proposition 8 when you go to
the voting booths this November to support the candidate of your
choice (obama), whomever that may be (obama), as it is your right as a
citizen to do (obama).  We do NOT need sanctioned hatred and
discrimination against our gay brothers and sisters in our state laws!
A few things to think about:

If you’re Christian:

Luke: 37: Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye
shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.

Proverbs 23:7: For as he thinks in his heart, so is he.

Matthew 22:36-38: Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

For the Tribe members:

LEVITICUS 24:19 And if a man cause a blemish in his neighbour; as he
hath done, so shall it be done to him.

LEVITICUS 19:18 Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the
children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself:
I am the Lord.

And for you gorgeous godless heathens:

No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the
privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall
any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without
due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the
equal protection of the laws.  –U.S. Constitution, 14th Amendment

If you want to be free, there is but one way; it is to guarantee an
equally full measure of liberty to all your neighbors. There is no
other. –Carl Schurz

(…who also said, “My country, right or wrong; if right, to be kept
right; and if wrong, to be set right.”)

Anger and intolerance are the enemies of correct understanding.–
Mohandas Gandhi

LOVE TO YOU ALL!  Please forward this as you see fit!

Rebecca

So, back in LA for a while now and since it’s been all real life stuff, I haven’t blogged. Re-entry was tough, I must admit. One of the first things I heard upon my return was that an old friend, Tracy Theilan, had died of an overdose. I know Tracy from the Iguana Cafe crowd. The Iguana became my living room when I was homeless in ‘91. It became the anvil on which I forged a new artistic identity soon after. It was a great place to grow and hang. Tom closed the Iguana in ‘95 and I cried for a week. No break-up, no death, no anything ever had cried so much that I got ill. I cried myself into a fever of a hundred and one and was off work for five days. I had ended enough eras to know that this one was gone for good and my heart has ached for it ever since.

Tracy was one of the singer-songwriters that peopled the Peoples Republic of Iguanaland.  But he was a non-pareil.  He was brilliant in that off-handed manner, that type of brilliance some artists have in spite of themselves.  He played a little guitar.  Literally little.  Don’t know what it’s called or why anyone would choose to play it, but the fact of it was funny.  And he was funny.  Not funny-ha-ha.  Funny-whoa-shit.  Political, insightful, sardonic,  and self-effacing.  Now, as I’m writing this, know that I did not know Tracy.  We were contemporaries but we did not hang.  All this stuff I write I do from seeing him play countless times and a few fleeting conversations where he smiled and nodded and sweat a lot.  He was not at ease with me and I have no idea why.  Maybe he didn’t like me, but I don’t think that was it.  He did like my work and told me so in a couple of those awkward conversations.  I wish I had known him.  We love so many of the same people.

At his wake, I saw so many of these people that are my crew.  There’s a familial feeling between us all – even those that I don’t know well.  We watched videos and heard others perform his music and read his poetry.  As Nelson Gary said, “It sucks that he’s dead.”

Tracy’s not the only passing to deal with.  Jose Payo passed on July 1st.  I cannot possibly eulogize him yet.